


The Tale of the Post It

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Case Fic, Codependency, Coffee, Established Relationship, Ianto's Duties, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-it Notes, Rebuilding Torchwood, Rift, Suits, Weevils (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:57:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing Tosh and Owen, life goes on at Torchwood as normal as can be excepted, with all that saving the world, coffee, sex, weevils and, wait one goddamn minute… Post It Notes?</p><p>“He fought against Torchwood One, the Cybermen and you to keep a thing he thought was the woman he loved alive. He won’t give you up, Jack. What he had with Lisa pales in comparison to what Ianto feels for you. What he’s capable of doing for you scares me. He’s this strange mixture of your loyal soldier, lover and disciple.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
The Tale of the Post It (Part 1)

I.

The Post-It was stuck on the handle of Jack’s favourite coffee mug.

Ianto had provided Jack with the two perfect means to read Ianto’s mood. The first was a long standing tradition from the first day they met. Coffee.

Ianto never brewed the same pot of coffee twice. Sometimes he was a purist, brewing a pot of coffee with one hundred percent of a certain type of coffee bean. Other times, Ianto was like an alchemist, creating his own unique blends. Ianto had an insane amount of coffee beans from all over the globe to perfect his own mixtures. The only commonality the blends shared were that they were always ground fresh, but even the coarseness of the ground changed from day to day depending on Ianto’s mood.

Jack carefully sniffed at the mug and the rich smell hinted that Ianto had heavily favoured beans from Zimbabwe this morning. Keeping the Post-It firmly in place, Jack sipped the coffee. The acidity hit his tongue first and finished with more than a hint of earthiness that was smooth, but still sharp in a strange combination. Darting his tongue around his mouth, Jack picked up a hint of chocolate in the after taste and smiled. Ianto had put in some beans from the Papua New Guinea stash Jack had gotten him two weeks ago. That meant Ianto was in a feisty mood this morning, going for a daring blend.

Jack had waited to turn his attention to the Post-It to savour the anticipation. It was the second way to read Ianto’s moods and a game Ianto had played since Jack returned. The first time the Post-It note game started was after Jack asked Ianto out on their first date in the office. Ianto left playful and, more often than not, cryptic messages for Jack to figure out. Sometimes they were left in obvious places, or Jack would find one in the oddest location. But, always with that same precise hand writing and positioned perfectly level. Sometimes the messages were serious and Ianto left them because he knew Jack would read them when he was incapable of talking or listening to anyone else. Ianto never signed the notes, not even with an initial. Though once after a night of sexual rodeo, Ianto had left him a simple note with a happy face drawn on it beside the freshly polished spurs on Jack’s desk.

Somehow Ianto always seemed to match the colour of the sticky notes to his ties. He had even managed to find red sticky notes. But this morning’s sticky note was blue like the aqua blue tie with the fine yellow stripes Ianto had been wearing last night. One word was written in the very familiar, neat cursive writing.

 **Superb**

Jack smiled and licked his lips. The note could be in reference to the coffee, but Jack suspected this particular note was a compliment concerning last night’s sexual adventures. The only question was: when had Ianto had found time to sneak out from Jack’s personal quarters during the night to put the note on Jack’s coffee mug? Jack knew it hadn’t been there last night because he had finished off the last mouthful of cold coffee before following Ianto down the ladder. Ianto had scowled at him and proceeded to lecture him that it was an insult to his coffee to be drunken stone cold. Jack had earned brownie points by answering back that Ianto’s cold coffee was better than anyone else’s hot coffee.

Jack went to switch on the CCTV in his office when he saw another Post-It tacked to the side of the monitor. Obviously, Ianto was eerily perceptive at predicting Jack’s movements and thought process. This Post-It was pink and he knew that meant Ianto would be sporting a pink tie this morning. A smile cracked the edge of Jack’s mouth as he read the note.

  
 **Spent some quality time this morning interrogating  
the usual suspect in your office, sir. **

Jack immediately accessed the CCTV records and scrolled back through the footage from his office. As the digital image flickered, chasing back the hours of the morning, Jack noticed something around the oh-two-hundred mark. Slowing the footage, Jack saw Ianto climb out of the hatch from Jack’s personal quarters. In the darkness of the office, Ianto’s pale skin almost seemed to shine with no shirt on and sleeping pants lying dangerously low on his hips. Jack loved seeing Ianto naked, but there was something teasing about seeing his lover half clothed and dishevelled. Jack watched entranced as Ianto looked straight at the camera and slowly lowered the sleeping pants.

Jack tapped his headset onto a private line with Ianto. “The usual suspect? That’s an interesting euphemism, Ianto.”

Ianto deadpanned his response. “I do have superior interrogation skills.”

Jack watched as Ianto started to touch himself on the screen, intense gaze never leaving the camera. “Learned from the best?”

“Self-taught skill, I’m afraid. Now, if you’re done bothering me, I’m working.”

Jack made a bad attempt at making static sounds over the line. “I’m sorry… the line’s cutting out… what was that? You’re wanking? What a coincidence, I happen to be watching you…”

“You can stop insulting the quality of my equipment now? If you behave yourself today, I might give you a personal demonstration of my interrogation skills.”

Jack stopped making the static noises and his eyebrow quirked up. “Oh, really? You’ve resorted to blackmail to make me behave now?”

“Drastic measures. Blackmail is some men’s seduction.”

There was a rustle of papers in Jack’s ear and he slid his hand up his thigh. He had plans to do his own version of carbon copying the image he was watching at the moment.

Just as his hand reached his zipper, Ianto’s voice cropped up strong. “Don’t even think about it, Jack.”

Jack groaned and squeezed himself through his pants. “Uncanny…”

Ianto snorted. “Save it for later and you’ll be rewarded.”

Jack thumped his head against the back of his chair and grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep,” Ianto answered and then the line went dead.

Jack groaned and squeezed himself through his pants one more time in frustration. Ianto was more than a distraction to pass the time. He was all sorts of complications and contradictions. Jack didn’t even try to figure it out. Instead he settled for rewinding the digital feed to rewatch Ianto’s show from the early hours.

<><><><><><>

II.  
Gwen had her head tilted to the side and her tongue worrying the slight gap in her front teeth as she watched Ianto with Jack. She was looking down at them from one of the ramps in the Hub. It felt like an invasion of privacy even though they knew she was here. It was the middle of the day and the entire Team was somewhere in the Hub going about the daily business of saving the world.

Gwen had always watched Jack, but since he returned, Gwen had made a point of watching Jack with Ianto. It was pretty hard not to watch the two together because they seemed to drift to one another more than ever before. There was a subtle shift in their relationship that Gwen hadn’t been able to nail down until now.

The crisis had been stressful for everyone, but especially Jack. Anything involving children always was. Jack’s posture was slightly tense and there were worry lines around his tired eyes. It was when Jack allowed Ianto to comfort him that tipped her off. The distinctively non-sexual way Ianto ran his hand over Jack’s forehead and how Jack leaned into Ianto’s touch. Jack kissed Ianto’s hand and sighed before getting up. He tossed a small piece of paper towards the rubbish bin. It hit the rim and bounced onto the floor. Jack looked back over his shoulder to glance at Ianto, beseeching for some privacy silently, before slowly walking towards the morgue.

Once Jack had left, Gwen came down to stand by Ianto and she simply said, “That’s new. How long have you been intimate?”

Ianto looked down at his hands at the spot where Jack kissed his palm. “Since he got back.”

“Oh.” Gwen ran her tongue over the back of her front teeth again. “I always thought you’d been shagging longer than that.”

“We’ve been shagging since the first week I met him.” Ianto tugged at the cuffs of his dress shirt. It was a nervous habit that Gwen knew only from watching Ianto. He was the type of man who didn’t make a point of continually fussing with his tie or kit throughout the day. “The intimacy is something entirely new.”

With that Ianto left Gwen with her mouth hanging open and went to clean the coffee machine. Close to Ianto’s desk, Gwen saw a crumpled Post-It note on the floor and she reached down to pick it up. She was going to toss it in the rubbish bin, but on a whim uncrumpled it to read it. She recognized Ianto’s handwriting.

 **It had to be done.**

Gwen knew about their little Post-It note war. Jack made a habit of keeping them, but this one she tossed into the rubbish bin. She agreed that this was one Jack didn’t need to be reminded of.

<><><><><><>

III.

Ianto had always registered on Jack’s radar from the first day Ianto tried to push his way into Torchwood Three. That first day Jack knew Ianto was a danger to him, but would never have known the true extent of how dangerous Ianto really was. Ianto Jones was a dangerous man when he was in was in love. Ianto had defied death, Torchwood and Jack himself because of his love for Lisa.

Jack was a confident man who knew the effect he had on people. He used that effect to his advantage. The conman was still a part of him. Ianto had not only betrayed him, but conned the conman. There was no denying that. It only made Ianto more attractive.

Jack had a weakness for noble, wilful and beautiful women, but the men who lasted and dug down deep into Jack’s soul were the ones who betrayed him. It was a quirk that he thought eternity and numerous betrayals would cure him of. However, Ianto’s betrayal had moved Ianto from a list of Torchwood co-workers and part-time lovers that was so long Jack sometimes forgot their names and the faces blurred as the decades passed. Now Ianto was on another short and very painful list. The Doctor was at the top of the list, followed by Captain John Hart.

Jack had the capability to be an exceptionally selfish and vindictive man. If he had been truly noble, which girls like Gwen liked to think he was before they really got to know him… if he was truly noble, then he would have let Ianto go. He would have retconned Ianto after the Cyberwoman debacle and forgiven him as just another victim of Torchwood. Jack ached for those who died from death by Torchwood. But he pitied even more the people like himself, and more so Ianto, who had to live and breathe Torchwood.

Jack believed in penance. He had let the earth take him for millennia to serve penance for his brother. And it was that same belief that he had both tested and punished Ianto for his betrayal.

When Owen had gone to move Lisa’s body, Jack stopped him with a pointed look, and said loud enough for Ianto hear, “This is Ianto’s mess. He has to clean it up.”

Gwen had looked at Jack in disbelief, the accusation clear in her glare. Jack had sent her home to Rhys and the others away shortly after. He watched over Ianto that night, never lifting a hand to help. Jack watched over Ianto as the young man dragged Lisa’s body over to the autopsy room. There would be no refrigerating this body. Without asking for direction, Ianto knew what needed to be done. Ianto had to cut away each of the metal intrusions from Lisa’s weak human flesh. With each piece, he threw the Cybermen parts onto the floor and became spattered with more blood on his dress shirt and suit trousers until he was his own gruesome horror show.

Lisa’s face was marred, but still identifiable as human when Ianto leaned over to kiss her cold lips goodbye. Her body was lying in segments in a body bag and Ianto‘s pale skin was covered in her thick blood, now dried dark. Even his lips were covered in her blood. His last act of savagery was to cut open her skull to retrieve implants from her brain. When Ianto looked up, Jack was expecting to see hatred in those eyes. Instead Jack saw a guilt ridden relief and sorrow.

When he spoke, Ianto’s voice was heavy. “Thank you. You freed both of us.”

Jack had nodded and watched over Ianto as he lifted the body back to the incinerator in the subbasement. Her body had burned first, and only after she was gone, had Ianto destroyed the last trappings of the Cybermen conversion separately. Ianto’s tears had streaked the dried blood on his face, while the morbid task was done with a breathtaking, efficient numbness.

By the end of the long night, the Hub had been put back to rights and evidence of Ianto’s betrayal destroyed. Ianto had stood before Jack with his back straight and waited for Jack’s judgement. He met Jack’s gaze full on and would have taken a bullet in the forehead with amazing courage.

That night, Jack Harkness had fallen dangerously in love with Ianto Jones.

Standing marred in his dead girlfriend’s gore and marked as Judas, Ianto’s betrayal sparked so many emotions in Jack. Rage and guilt only fired the lust that had been there since the first day. Ianto never flinched as Jack grabbed the back of Ianto’s neck and drew him into a possessive kiss. No words were spoken as the kiss ended and Jack led Ianto down to the showers. Even drowning in soul crushing grief and weariness, Ianto had tried to protest when Jack started to undress him. What was left of the early morning hours passed as Jack stood under the hot water, first washing and then simply holding Ianto. After being pulled out of the showers, both crumpled on the cold floor of the change room. Ianto fell asleep with his head in Jack‘s lap, naked except for being covered in Jack’s great coat.

There was no public breakdown after that. Ianto was stronger than that. He woke up the morning after, dressed and disposed of his bloody clothing before he made coffee. Ianto’s ability to cope was both a scary and beautiful thing. Something was missing from Ianto. It was perhaps the reason Ianto had flirted with Jack over Suzie’s dead body. Ianto’s macabre strength, but remaining innate goodness, called to Jack. Jack loved and respected Ianto’s courage to get up each morning and move on. When others, including Jack tried to give up to death’s call, Ianto just trudged on. He lost Lisa and then his team mates, but still found the courage, or perhaps composed madness, to function.

After they lost Tosh and Owen, Gwen broke down and grieved openly. Ianto mourned their lost team mates by carrying on the work they had died for. Jack grew to love Ianto even more when Ianto was there the morning after with a cup of coffee and half smirk. Jack loved Ianto for wearing a red shirt and hiding the slight shake of his hands.

There could be no one great love for Jack Harkness. Like the immortal Time Lords, there was too much time to pass and new temptations to be consumed by just one. The Doctor had come close to being Jack’s great love, but he was tied to what Jack hoped would someday be his eventual death. Jack had hoped and still clung to the fact that if the Doctor couldn’t love him because of his wrongness, then he could at least love him enough to find a way for Jack to die.

But Jack loved Ianto in another way. He loved him in the here and now. Jack loved him when he was being tortured by the Master and used him as a beacon to keep his sanity. Even now when the thick blackness of the earth threatened to over take his sanity, Ianto was there. Jack had lost two more friends and could only blame himself.

Still hearing sweet Tosh’s last breath in his mind, Jack was distracted from his brooding when Ianto set coffee down on the desk. Jack could smell it was something different. A new blend that smelt slightly less earthy and Jack smiled, being drawn back to reality even more. Ianto knew the smell of earth made him queasy.

“I’ve got new beans from the Galapagos,” Ianto said nonchalantly. Jack hummed in appreciation as Ianto gestured towards the CCTV screen where a familiar figure was sauntering around Hampstead Heath. “You’ve been watching him.”

Jack picked up the coffee mug and took a small sip. He didn’t deny that he had been watching John. Ianto was too observant and smart to be lied to.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

Ianto’s face remained impassive. “How long before he comes back?”

“A few weeks at least.”

“And how long before you offer him a job?”

Jack’s grip tightened on the handle of the mug. It was something he had barely been considering. “He’s not a replacement.”

“He’s familiar with alien tech and time rifts. He can fight, but can you control him?”

“I can give him what he wants,” Jack admitted and didn’t miss how Ianto’s posture became tenser. “I can give him attention. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Not too close, sir.”

Jack smiled and reached out to lay his hand on the tempting stretch of pale skin just above Ianto’s collar. “Consider him my ex-wife.”

Ianto leaned into Jack’s touch slightly, but gifted Jack with a mischievous smirk of his own. “I shall endeavour to call him such. Repeatedly. Amongst other things. But, don’t think I won’t kill him if he…”

“Ianto,” Jack sighed. “I won’t bring him on board if you…”

“Who else is there?” Ianto cut him off with the brisk question. When Jack didn’t answer right away, Ianto continued, “I’ve already put out feelers with UNIT for Martha to transfer without too much ill will. You obviously feel he has something to offer Torchwood. We can’t do our jobs properly with just three people. There really is no decision to be made.”

Jack looked back to the screen where John was lurking outside of Kenwood House, smoking with some band girls who were there from the uni for a classical concert. Jack would have thought John fit more in at a rock concert, it but leave it to John to be contrary.

“I’m not fooling myself. I don’t think he’s on the road to redemption, but I think he could be useful,” Jack sighed. “I’m going to monitor him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything too highly questionable.”  
Ianto kept a straight face when he said, “If he doesn’t work out, there’s always Rhys. Having a lorry driver around might come in handy.”

“You’re nasty this morning.” Jack’s hand was moving from Ianto’s neck to rest on his shoulder. “Sarcasm suits you.”

“Thank you, sir. I do try.”

Ianto left Jack alone in his office, only to come back twenty three minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee. Normally, Ianto brought his coffee black, but staring at the liquid, Ianto had offered a rare concession to Jack’s sweet tooth with double cream and double sugar.

When Jack opened a stack of files on his desk, there was an orange sticky note set dead centre of the page with a warning to his lover and boss.

 **I don’t play well with others, Jack.**

<><><><><><>  
IV.

Jack stood on the roof of the Millennium Centre, as he had done countless times. The tails of his coat whipped around him as the wind came in from the north. This time was different now than any other time he had escaped to the roof in a few years. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips and the smoke curled around his form. He hadn’t smoked in decades. He could hear someone coming up behind him and could tell by the fall of her footsteps that it was Gwen.

Turning, Jack reached up and grabbed the cigarette to flick off the long trail of ash. Even now the damn things tasted differently than he remembered. Gwen was holding out a small Post-It note. It was plain canary yellow just like any million of other Post-It notes that you could find in any office. Jack sighed and took the note, knowing that the mundane colour meant Ianto was still mad at him.

 **I smelt it on you.**

With the note in one hand, Jack held the cigarette between two fingers in the other hand. Like alcohol, the nicotine was fleeting in his system.

Gwen shifted her weight, her shoes scratching on the asphalt of the roof. “I didn’t know you smoked.”  
“I haven’t since 1973,” Jack confessed. “Though, I have to admit I always enjoy having something to suck on.”

Gwen gave him a wry smile. “It’s not like it can kill you, I suppose.”

“No, but it call kill the people around me.” Jack gazed at the burning ember. He flicked it onto the asphalt and then jumped off of the ledge, crushing it under his boot. Stepping to the right, he crouched down and picked up the butt, knowing that it would only irritate Ianto more if he had to start cleaning up cigarette butts on the roof. Jack slipped the butt into his handkerchief fearing Ianto even more if Jack put a hole in his coat. “I’ve always known that, but it helped me fit in back in the thirties and forties.”

“Ianto’s not pleased.”

“I take it you read the note.”

“Couldn’t help it,” Gwen said. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out another note. This Post-It was also on plain yellow paper. “He wanted me to give you this one, too. Only after you put out the cigarette. He could’ve just called you over the headset, or texted you, but…”

Jack cut her off with an absent wave of his hand. He knew why Ianto had sent the notes. “Don’t try and explain Ianto.”

“You’re having a row.”

“Not exactly.”

Gwen looked genuinely perplexed. “Then what, Jack?”

Jack smiled and shook his head, finally reading the note in his hand.

 **Someone called for you. I’m keeping them on the line.  
I suggest you take the call. **

Jack started to walk towards the lift. “Ghosts from my past.”

Gwen quickened her steps to walk beside him. “Captain Hart? You’ve been monitoring him and Ianto said you’re close to calling him back in.”

Jack sighed under his breath. “Necessary evil.”

Gwen reached out and grabbed Jack’s arm, stopping them both from walking any further. “If you shag that bastard Captain John, Jack, you’ll break Ianto’s heart and I don’t think there’s much left to break.”

“You saying it’ll kill him?”

“Worse. I’m saying he’d either tolerate it because he…” Gwen let go of Jack and shook her head. “I don’t want to think about Ianto like that. Either he’d take it or, he’d…” Gwen shook her head again, taking a deep breath. “He fought against Torchwood One, the Cybermen and you to keep a thing he thought was the woman he loved alive. He won’t give you up, Jack. What he had with Lisa pales in comparison to what Ianto feels for you. What he’s capable of doing for you scares me. He’s this strange mixture of your loyal soldier, lover and disciple.”

“I can’t promise you I won’t hurt him. I never promised him that, but he’s…” Jack took Gwen face between his hands and leaned into kiss her forehead. He smiled at her, willing her to understand. “He’s my Ianto.”

The confusion was clear on her face. “And you’re Jack.”

Jack gave her another quick kiss on the forehead and grinned at her confidently before letting go. “See, you do understand. Smart girl! Now, I do believe I have been summoned.”

Gwen followed Jack back to the lift and decided trying to figure out the two most important men in her life other than her husband was pretty much impossible. All she could hope to do is was hope to keep them from destroying their relationship and the earth in the process. There was no denying the tiny surge of jealousy she had when she thought of Jack with Ianto. But, the truth was that the reality of being with Jack frightened her even more than her desire to be with him. Gwen was certain being with Jack would break her, but that’s why Ianto was perfect for Jack. Ianto was already broken, jaded and a survivor of Torchwood before Jack came into his life. Once the lift took them into the Hub, Gwen watched Jack’s pace quicken when he heard the distant call of Ianto’s laugh.

Walking back into the main Hub, Jack frowned when he heard the tone of Ianto’s voice as he talked on the phone. It was lower and had a pitch Ianto only used with him. As Ianto’s low chuckle reached his ear, Jack knew that Ianto was flirting. Coming closer to the centre of the Hub, the words of the one-sided conversation became clearer.

“Yes, everyone knows Handel and Bach…” Ianto stopped, listening to someone one the other end of the line before he answered, “Well, anyone who has a decent ear for baroque music would at least listen to Monteverdi and Vivaldi, too. The triple meter…” Ianto paused and nodded. “Yes, but… really? The original was designed to… I didn’t know that. To listen to it in the original with him directing would be simply divine.” Ianto stopped again and his face lit up in a look Jack knew that he was discovering something knew. Then his tone dropped and Ianto’s gaze dropped as he fingered the button on his suit jacket. “Perhaps that could be arranged. I happen to also make a delightful cup of tea and can dance a semi-decent minuet.”

Jack felt the jealously boiling up deep inside which was odd, because Jack didn’t do jealousy. “Who are you talking with?”

Ianto tilted back in his chair and looked over his shoulder at Jack. “Long distance call for you.”

Jack stalked across the short distance until he was standing beside Ianto and laid his hand on Ianto’s shoulder. “That isn’t what I asked.”

“The Doctor, sir.” Jack’s mouth gapped opened as Ianto continued, “Shall I put him through to your private line…” Ianto stopped and his eyebrow quirked, responding to the Doctor on his headset. “Ah, I see. He’d rather go on speaker phone.”

Ianto tapped a few quick buttons on the computer and before Jack could process it, the Doctor’s voice was ringing out in the Hub. “Hello, Jack.”

“Doctor?”

Gwen kept quiet, but mouthed silently to Ianto, ‘The Doctor’, with emphasis on ‘The’ and pointed at Jack. Ianto simply nodded back at her.

The Doctor’s laugh made a shiver run up Jack’s spine. “I do believe that’s what Mr. Jones told you. Quite the young man you have there.”

Ianto looked pleased. “Thank you, sir.”

Jack said the first thing that popped into his mind and squeezed Ianto’s shoulder. “Don’t call him ‘sir’.“

“Slip of the tongue, I’m afraid,” Ianto said, not looking apologetic at all. “The Doctor and I had a very enlightening conservation.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Let me guess? He was just sharing some of my adventures with you?”

The Doctor answered with a tsking noise. He sounded like he was standing in the same room, not across the Universe and time. “Really, Jack. Not everything revolves around you even though you like to think it does. I was just getting to know Mr. Jones.”

“You called to…” Jack himself off before he said ‘Hit, on my…’ because he still didn’t have a label for what Ianto was to him. “Why did you call, Doctor?”

“To see how you are, Jack.”

Ianto laid his hand over top of Jack’s hand, which was still on his shoulder, pulling it down so that their fingers were intertwined.

Holding Ianto’s hand, Jack managed to say, “Oh.”

The Doctor’s tried again when he only got a monosyllable answer from Jack. “How are you?”

Jack’s palms felt sweaty, but he dared not let go of Ianto’s hand. “I’m fine. Are you coming to…”

Ianto’s grasped tightened on Jack’s hand. “Visit?”

“Not possible at the moment,” The Doctor answered. “But, perhaps, in a little while, I can come for a visit. Take you…”

“And Ianto,” Jack added quickly.

“Yes, of course. If you had let me finished,” The Doctor chuckled. “I would love to take you both on a little holiday. Until then, I just wanted to check up on you. The TARDIS misses you.”

When Jack didn’t answer right away, it was Ianto to who did. “I might be able to work that into our schedule.”

The Doctor sounded pleased. “Good, good…”

There was the sound of beeping in the background that Jack recognised as the TARDIS. There was so many things that Jack wanted to say. He wanted to say that just hearing the Doctor’s voice again made him feel better. He wanted to ask if the darkness had ever enveloped him completely. He wanted to tell him that he loved him and Ianto. Even though words or confidence had never really been a problem for Jack, he barely breathed now.

All he could do was hold onto Ianto’s hand and manage to croak out, “I miss you. It’s been… rough.”

The beeping noise got louder in the background. “Oh, damn it. I have to go. Take care of each other. Mr. Jones, do give The Well-Tempered Clavier a try. I’ll make a point of trying to call back regularly.”

The Doctor never said goodbye before the line when dead. They all stood there in silence for a few moments.

Finally, it was Gwen who blurted out. “Well, there you go, then. Ianto, you should stop being mad at Jack. The Doctor even said so. Give the well-tempered cavalier a try… though Jack’s never been too well-tempered if you ask me and I don’t think he finished his sentence… if it was an insult, or…”

“It’s a collection of music,” Ianto said with dry amusement. “By Bach.”

Gwen bit her bottom lip, feeling stupid. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know you knew so much about baroque music,” Jack said even though he knew Ianto loved classical music. He was still holding Ianto’s hand and had no intention of letting go.

“You never asked,” Ianto answered. With his free hand he typed a few commands into the computer. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes,” Jack admitted and scanned Ianto’s desk, spotting a stack of the hated yellow Post-Its.

Ianto sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “The smoking will stop, I hope? Disgusting habit.”

“It was an… abbreviation.”

Jack had no way to explain that having Captain John Hart back in his life had triggered other bad habits in his life. He always made a point of trying to live in the here and now, but when confronted by a blatant reminder of times from his past, it sometimes caused a ripple effect. Habits and memories came to the surface that Jack thought were buried. Jack wanted to explain that it was a side effect and sure as hell better than falling into bed with John.

“Like your ex-wife?” Ianto shot back.

Ianto had taken to calling John that if they were forced to talk about him and as the time drew closer where John was going to join the team, they had to discuss him more. But the comment meant that Ianto understood in a strange way.

Jack nodded. “Yes.”

Ianto squeezed his hand one last time and let go. “I’ll know.”

“If I…”

Ianto looked up and him with knowing eyes. “Smoke?”

“Right… smoke. Won’t happen.”

Ianto nodded and turned back to the computer screen to get back to work, clearly dismissing Jack. “I’ll hold you to your promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto and Jack work together on a case. Ianto makes Jack get a suit.

  
V.

When Jack rounded the corner of the tourist office, Ianto was standing in the middle, staring at him. Jack’s great coat was draped stylishly over Ianto’s right arm and his fingers aimlessly traced a seam.

Ianto had kidnapped his coat and lured Jack upstairs looking for it. “Stop molesting my coat.”

Ianto’s fingers kept caressing the seam of the coat. “We’re going shopping, sir.”

“We?” Jack cocked his head to the side. Jack flashed Ianto a cheeky grin. “For curtains?”

Ianto refused to give into Jack’s banter and nodded towards the front door with its closed sign already turned, pamphlets tided and floor vacuumed. “For something you need.”

“Then you pick it up.”

“No,” Ianto was insistent.

“Then have it delivered.”

Ianto’s response was to hold up Jack’s coat and to shake it out. “It’s nippy out. You’ll need your coat.”

“If it’s cold out, then you could wear my coat since you like it so much.”

Ianto held out the coat again. “I prefer it on you.”

Jack let Ianto help slip the coat on, adoring the way Ianto’s hands lingered and fussed over it. “I could shag you on it…”

Ianto’s hand paused on Jack’s shoulder and his gaze rose. “Our dry cleaning bill is already outrageous.”

Jack could read Ianto and loved that there was no reluctance. “You didn’t say no.”

“Perhaps after we go shopping…”

“Can I molest you in the changing room?”

Ianto rolled his eyes with pure exasperation. “Jack…”

“You didn’t say no to that either,” Jack pointed out and buttoned up his coat.

“Perhaps when we pick up the jeans, but you will behave at the first place I’m taking you. That is non-negotiable.”

The tone in Ianto’s voice reminded Jack of a strict parent talking to a spoiled child. In other words, if Jack behaved himself, he would get a treat later.

“I can live with that…” Jack said and followed Ianto out of the tourist office.

Where Jack found himself twenty minutes later was almost leaving him curious. The sign hanging outside of the shop read ‘Humphries’ Clothing & Tailoring.’

The door’s brass hinges and handle were polished impeccably. When Ianto pushed on the door, the top dinged a shiny brass bell. It brought Jack back to another era before shopping malls. The only ready made items for sale in the tailor shop were a stunning variety of dress shirts, belts, cuff links and tie clips.  
There was not a single suit to be bought off the rack. Despite Ianto’s distaste of smoking, Jack wasn’t surprised to find a faint smell of cigars about the shop.

An elderly, slim middle-aged man with white hair was standing behind the counter. He was dressed in a three piece suit with a measuring tape draped over his left his shoulders. The man’s face lit up when he saw Ianto and he came around the counter.

“Young Master Jones!” the man greeting enthusiastically.

“Mr. Humphries,” Ianto greeted him a genuine friendly smile.

Upon hearing the commotion, another older man strode into the room after pushing the curtain hiding the backroom aside. This man was more rotund, with a full head of greying hair and bushy moustache. The man strode over to Ianto with his arms raised and drew him into a big hug, smacking Ianto on the back with a loud chuckle.

“Young Master Jones, it’s always good to see you.” The rotund man kept hugging Ianto, before addressing his co-worker. “Mr. Humphries, you should have called me!”

“Mr. Lucas, you just heard the bell ring,” Mr. Humphries chided the other man. “And let the poor boy go before he has a coronary.”

“We’re always happy to see you.” Mr. Lucas thumped Ianto on the back and let him go. With another warm chuckle, he reached out and straightened Ianto’s tie. He pulled away and then his gaze settled on Jack. “And, you brought a friend.”

“You’ve never brought a friend before,” Mr. Humphries pointed out. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Yes, of course,” Ianto said after looking daze for a moment. Coughing, he motioned towards Jack. “This is Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Oh, a Captain?” Mr. Humphries looked anything but impressed, but still seemed friendly enough. He quickly took Jack’s hand and shook it. “Well, a friend of Young Master Jones’ is a friend of ours.”

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Jack shook Mr. Lucas’ hand right after Mr. Humphries’. “Ianto insisted we come here.”

“Of course he did,” Mr. Humphries said with a puffed up chest. “He doesn’t buy his suits anywhere else.”

“It would be a travesty if he did,” Mr. Lucas agreed. The man motioned to a faded colour photograph behind the till the showed a younger version of himself, Mr. Humphries and a raven haired man with a striking family resemblance to Ianto. “He’s family.”

“I did say my father was a master tailor,” Ianto reminded Jack. His eyes lingered over the image of his father and softened a bit.

“A true genius,” Mr. Humphries beamed. “He could tell a man’s inside seam just by watching a customer stride over the front step. Had such a good eye, our Mr. Jones’ did.”

“So true, Mr. Humphries,” Mr. Lucas agreed. “Now, what brings you to our fine establishment, Young Master Jones?”

“I need a suit,” Ianto answered, gaze just slipping from the photograph.

“Of course you do,” Mr. Lucas agreed. He looked over at Jack with an assessing look that was all business. “What were you thinking of for him?”

“Now, why do you just assume it’s for me?” Jack laughed.

Mr. Humphries made a tutting sound. “Because if the suit was for himself, Young Master Jones would simply help himself to the sample books and charge whatever he wants to his store credit. You on the other hand…” Mr. Humphries turned to address Ianto this time. “He probably sapped all your energy getting him here, didn’t he dear boy? Seems like quite the handful.”

When Jack went to automatically make a flippant remark about being a handful, he was stopped immediately by Ianto’s steely gaze. Ianto spoke first when he answered, “Jack is simply a busy man.”

“Of course he is,” Mr. Lucas said. “I assume you have his measurements?”

Ianto pulled out purple Post-It note from his suit jacket pocket that perfectly matched his current tie and handed it to Mr. Lucas. “Yes. I was thinking something in a mid-weight, one hundred-percent worsted wool. Travels well.”

Now it was Mr. Humphries who was assessing Jack, but talking to Ianto. “Hard on his clothing?”

Ianto nodded and gave a long suffering sigh, “You have no idea. Single breasted of course.”As if sensing Jack was going to make a rude comment about double breasted aliens, Ianto gave him another firm warning look. “A vest with a nice pocket for a stopwatch.”

“Am I not allowed to dress myself?” Jack asked in amused tone.

All three men gave Jack a look as if he had said something completely daft. For whatever reason, these men were not susceptible to Jack’s charms, or sense of humour.

Mr. Humphries shook his head and patted Ianto’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go through the sample books, lad? There’s a fine new charcoal grey I think may suit your tastes for him. We’ll just help Captain Harkness here peruse the shirts.”

Ianto eyed Jack again and Jack had the sudden feeling he was being mentally undressed and redressed in a suit Ianto could see in his mind’s eye. It was incredibly hot and Jack shifted his feet. “I could help, Ianto. Perhaps in the fitting rooms…”

Ianto was already moving behind the counter with a dismissive wave. “Remember your promise.”

Ianto disappeared behind the curtain and there was a sound of a heavy book hitting a table and the creak of a spine. Both Mr. Humphries and Mr. Lucas suddenly moved closer to Jack which just so happened to block his escape and path to Ianto.

Mr. Humphries was the first to speak, seemingly to Jack now that Ianto was out of earshot. “You know, Captain Harkness, Young Master Jones used to work in our shop before he went to London. He had the wanderlust.” Mr. Humphries made a tsking noise. “Always seemed to be looking for something, or someone. It’s a shame. He would have had a great career as master tailor like his father. The boy has such an eye. He seems much more settled now that he’s home. It’s not good to see our Welsh youth scattered all over.”

“And London?” Mr. Lucas made a scoffing sound. “London has nothing on Cardiff. The English well… they’re English. You’re American?”

Jack gifted the men with a devastating smile. “Something like that.”

“I sensed a little something in your accent that’s not quite like on the telly,” Mr. Lucas said, still not succumbing to Jack’s charms. “I remember an offhand comment Young Master Jones made a few months ago about his boss leaving unexpectedly. Poor lad was quite forlorn and stressed, even though he would never admit. Wasn’t he, Mr. Humphries?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Lucas,” Mr. Humphries nodded vehemently. “Quite out of sorts. So out of sorts he even considered buying a tie with polka dots.”

Mr. Lucas made a hissing sound as he drew in a quick breath. Lowering his breath, he whispered, “Polka dots?”

“I take it polka dots are bad?” Jack asked.

Mr. Humphries made a scoffing sound and proceeded to ignore the comment. “I suspect you’re the reason our Young Master Jones has…” He exchanged a knowing look with Mr. Lucas. “Become much bolder.”

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Humphries agreed. “The boy was always a dabber dresser but of late he’s definitely become bolder. Red appears to be his new favourite colour.”

“Ianto does look good in red,” Jack agreed. Despite everything, he felt like he was getting tested and just couldn’t quite figure out what the questions were.

Mr. Lucas’ attention seemed to focus to Jack’s shirt now that his coat had slipped a bit from his shoulder a bit. The older man fingered the tip of Jack’s collar. “Mr. Humphries, I would recognize our stitching anywhere. I do believe this is our special order for Young Master Jones.”

“Oh, the special order,” Mr. Humphries chuckled and gave Mr. Lucas a knowing look. “Young Master Jones dropped in after coming back from London…”

“London, dreadful place,” Mr. Lucas chimed in.

“Yes, yes, dreadful place, Mr. Lucas. I believe you already said that,” Mr. Humphries agreed. “Well, Young Master Jones came home… came back to the shop. Convenient that, so we wouldn’t have to ship his suits all that way. Good to have him back, but he did take us by surprise when he came in with a special order.”

“Said he had a boss who was into historic fancy dress,” Mr. Lucas added and straightened Jack’s collar. “Needed some custom reproductions.”

“Price wasn’t an issue,” Mr. Humphries said and his gaze settled on Jack’s uniform. “Only wanted the best would do.”

Mr. Lucas was eyeing Jack with a sceptical gaze again. “Young Master Jones always had an eye for the best.”

Mr. Humphries crossed his arms over his chest and looked more serious now. “And, he deserves the best. The very best. Don’t you agree, Captain Harkness?”

“Mmm, he does,” Jack agreed hoping desperately Ianto would come rescue him. “But, sometimes Ianto has a quirk for settling for something with a flaw in it.”

Both of the older men considered Jack for a moment before Mr. Humphries spoke, “Sometimes the finest silk has a flaw it. Even, immense flaws.”  
As if on cue, Ianto came out from the back holding a swatch of dark grey with a fine pin stripe in his grip. “I’ll need to find a shirt to match this.”

“I like the green ones…” Jack said immediately and motioned towards the racks with seventeen different shades of green. Apparently he said something extremely stupid because all three men looked at him like he was a madman.

“You meant blue, right?” Mr. Humphries corrected him.

Jack was at a loss for words and shrugged his shoulders, looking at Ianto for direction. Ianto nodded and started to consider the dizzying array of blues. “Yes.”

“How about red?” Jack chimed in. “I like red.”

“Jack…” Ianto turned around and huffed. “On me, yes. Red on you with a suit this colour?” He held the swatch up. “I don’t think so. Please stop trying to help.”

Mr. Lucas clapped Jack on the shoulder and chuckled. “Why don’t I show you some photographs of our Young Master Jones from his youth? There’s this charming one of him all wrapped up in his father’s measuring tape. That should provide an amusing distraction while he searches the shelves.”

Ianto groaned and planted his face into his palm. “Maybe a visit to the fitting rooms would be preferable embarrassment…”

“Oh, no,” Jack all but cackled. “I’d love to learn more about Young Master Jones. And, that would explain his fascination and adept use of measuring tapes…”

When Jack opened up his carefully pressed and custom tailored suit that arrived four days later, there was a Post-It note carefully pinned to the right lapel. The top of the note was embossed with ‘Humphries’ Clothing & Tailoring’. An unfamiliar hand had written Jack a careful note.

 **Hurt the boy and you’ll regret it.**

<><><><><><>

VI.

Right after the visit to the tailor shop, Ianto had taken Jack shopping for casual clothing, including the jeans he was currently wearing. They were comfortable and faded in all the right places, matching the casual blue button up shirt Jack was wearing. For behaving himself at the tailor’s, Jack had been rewarded with a literal slap and tickle in the dressing room of the jeans store. It was a bonus reward that Jack got to grope Ianto who was currently dressed in old jeans and a burgundy polo shirt.

“Remind me why I needed to buy a suit when I’m wearing jeans?” Jack asked as he drove the SUV down the narrow country road.

“Turn right here.” Ianto didn’t take his attention away from the GPS unit on the dashboard. “You have a suit because we’re going on holiday and every respectable businessman needs a suit.”

“Do they now?”

Ianto nodded. “Yes.”

“On holiday?  
”  
“Especially on holiday. Working holiday, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, working holiday. What will we be working on? Your flexibility? Because you’re already able to bend over.”

“Our cover is simple. Two business men on a country holiday to Rudry.” Ianto continued on as if Jack had never interrupted with his leer and sexual commentary. “There’s been report of animal mutilations. Sheep, specifically, and some other small animals… rabbits and, some pets. I intercepted the reports from the local constable. I’ve got us booked into a bed and breakfast for three nights. Sometimes the simple cover is the best. We’re a couple…”

“A couple of what?”

“Oh, really, Jack. Professionals. That’s why you needed the suit.”

“And I wouldn’t stand out wearing a suit in the country?”

“Your suit is packed. I doubt you’ll wear it, but you still needed it all the same for appearances sake. The type of people we are pretending to be always needs a well tailored suit. We can continue to wear the jeans. You can keep the coat.”

Jack tapped the steering wheel and turned the SUV right down an uneven back road. “How kind of you.”

“Thank you.”

“I noticed you still have that manly studded belt from the first time you tried to seduce me.”

Ianto turned so quickly that his seatbelt tightened across his shoulder. “Seduce you? I was trying to get hired!”

“Rent boy,” Jack coughed under his breath. Jack loved it when Ianto was indignant and made a point of baiting him several times a day. He could tell by the slight tinge of red creeping up Ianto’s ears that it was working.

“Take the next left,” Ianto huffed and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, ignoring Jack. When the SUV stopped, he turned to snap at Jack, until he saw exactly why Jack had stopped. There was a tall wrought iron gate blocking the private drive. Hanging on the gate was a large sign reading ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’. The property was located right in the middle of the reported animal mutilations. A few quick checks and they found out a local recluse lived there alone.

“Let me handle this,” Ianto said and was out of the door.

Jack leaned back into the seat and watched with pride as Ianto pulled out a lock pick case from his back jean pocket. With quick efficient movements Ianto picked the lock. With a flourish, Ianto pushed open the gate and climbed into the SUV when Jack drove it closer.

Jack clapped and grinned at Ianto. “Well done.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said. “I checked the satellite close up on this property before we left and figured my lock pick kit would come in handy.”

“And the handcuffs I saw in your other back pocket?”

Ianto’s expression was positively wicked. “It’ll come in handy for someone, I’m sure. Now, drive on, Jeeves.”

Jack grinned, but his attention was focused as they entered an unknown situation. The cottage was shielded by dense shrubbery. Parking the SUV, they each got out leaving with the doors open and engine running.

Taking out his weapon, Jack took the lead, with Ianto close behind him. There was a rustle of movement behind the cottage and shrubs that drew their attention. Moving quietly, the circled around until they saw a little girl swinging from a rope swing suspended from a large bow of a gnarled and bent oak tree. She was wearing a pretty pink dress and a pair of too big goulashes with rubber ducks on them. Jack trained his gun right to the middle of her chest. Her wispy hair was high on her forehead and pulled into short pigtails. Her face was pointed and elongated, with barely a hint of a nasal ridge. But it was the pointed teeth that gave her away as a predator.

“A baby weevil…” Ianto breathed out.

The little girl kept pumping her legs, swinging, but she tilted her head to one side. She sniffed the air and locked onto Jack and Ianto. A low, rumbling growl emanated from her. After so much weevil hunting, it was a sound they both recognized as one of warning and distress, even if it was higher pitched than they were used to hearing.

Their attention on the weevil, they hadn’t heard the man approaching from behind. The click of the safety going off on the rifle was their first sign they had a weapon trained on them.

“Lower your weapon,” the man warned. “Back away from the girl.”

The small weevil had jumped down from the swing into a crouch, her growl becoming high pitched yips that reminded Ianto of a distraught puppy. Jack slowly lowered his gun.

“No need for weapons,” Jack warned.

“Shut up,” the man barked. He pointed the rifle at Jack with one hand and with the other hand, motioned to the girl. “Gladys, c’mere, petal.”

The weevil, apparently Gladys, gave a few more nervous yips before running past Ianto until she was behind the man. She hid behind him, hugging his leg.

Jack lowered the handgun onto the ground slowly. “I know what she is.”

“You’ve got no idea,” the man growled. “She’s just deformed. I don’t need any of you mocking her for being different.”

Jack raised his arms in the air. “She’s not human.”

The man paled visibly and the rifle shook as he tightened his grip. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s just deformed and it’s not her fault for being that way.”

“Listen, Mister…” Jack started, but glanced at Ianto for the last name of the property owner.  
“Cadwallader,” Ianto supplied.

“Mr. Cadwallader,” Jack tried again. “Let’s not even pretend. We’re not the cops. I know what she is… well, what she half is. We came to help.” When the man didn’t shoot him, Jack continued, “We’re not here to kill her. We’ve dealt with her kind before. We know what she’ll grown up to be. You know what she’s capable of, don’t you Mr. Cadwallader?”

“If you’re talking about those animals… that was a mistake,” the man told Jack with a shaky voice, starting to babble. “She’s barely more than a baby. Had a temper tantrum one day and run away from home. Gladys didn’t mean any harm. She was just hungry.”

”She’s…” Jack tried again.

“Not a monster. She’s not dangerous. Not to humans,” the man insisted. Keeping the shotgun cradled in the crook of his left arm, he settled his right hand on her shoulder, pushing her out a little to show Jack. She hissed at Jack like a cat, but the threat was ruined when her bottom lip quivered and she started to suck her thumb. “Her name’s Gladys Cadwallader.”

“If you lower the weapon, we’ll talk Mr. Cadwallader,” Jack promised. “We won’t hurt her.”

The man looked uncertain, but he was rational enough to understand that if he tried to kill them now, it wouldn’t be the end of this. He kept one hand on Gladys’ head and lowered the weapon. “She’s a good girl.”

Jack started to look over Gladys from a distance. “She’s a hybrid, Mr. Cadwallader…”

“Parry,” the man corrected automatically. “My name’s Parry.”

“You’re her father?” Ianto asked the question he already knew the answer to.

Parry nodded and shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I knew your types would come some day, but I was hoping I could keep her say just a while longer. She’s just a little girl.”

“Tell me how it happened,” Jack prompted. “Tell me how Gladys came about.”

Parry kept running his hand over Gladys fine hair and she pushed her cheek against his leg, making a sound like a rumbling purr. “I was in Cardiff one night. Just went in to pick up some tyres on sale for my truck. I was driving around near the High Street Shopping Arcade, next thing I know is this thing… jumps onto the hood of my car. It tears me out of the car and, well…” Parry closed his eyes and shivered. “Stuff happened. That thing was so damn ugly, but it was a woman. Some demented, ugly woman. I felt like I was possessed, doing what I did. Thought it was all over when that thing left. Only problem is, it followed me home. I tried getting rid of it. I tried to shoot it, but I couldn’t do it. I’m not a cold blooded killer and whatever happened to me that night messed with my mind. Finally, I just kept it in the barn. After about six months, it gave birth to Gladys. I knew the baby was mine.”

“Where’s her mother?” Jack asked.

Parry met Jack’s steady gaze with his own unmoving gaze. He showed guilt at Jack’s accusation. “She’s my daughter, my baby girl, even if she is different.” Parry sighed and lowered his head. “Dead.”  
Jack tensed at the admission. “How?”

“I shot it after Gladys was born. The thing started to sniff the baby and growling after she was born. I think it knew the baby wasn’t like it completely…” Parry answered. “It bit Gladys. The thing was going to kill her. I just knew. So, I shot it. Buried her out back in the family plot. Gave it a good Christian burial. You come to arrest me?” Parry started to babble again, his eyes reddening. “I’m all Gladys has. I know you’ll just want to lock her up in some cage. She might not look like other little girls, but she’s my daughter. I love her, and…”

“Parry, we’re not here to harm Gladys,” Ianto cut him off. He crouched down and held out his hand to her despite Jack shaking his head. “Hello, Gladys. My name’s Ianto.” Gladys ducked back behind her father and made the fearful noises again. Directing his attention to Parry, Ianto asked as if he would ask the parent of a normal child, “May I give her a treat?”

“I guess…” Parry blurted out, clearly confused. “If you hurt her…”

“Not going to hurt a child,” Ianto repeated. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a mint. Unwrapping it, he put it flat onto the palm of his hand and waited. “Does she speak?”

“No,” Parry answered. “But she can understand me and knows some sign language. I bought some books and DVDs.”

“Gladys, would you like a sweet?” Ianto asked in a soft lilt. His accent had thickened, sounding more like the rural Welshman. Jack recognized it as a tactic to sound more familiar to the child.

There was the sound of heavy sniffing and Gladys peeked her head out from behind her father legs, still sucking her thumb. Looking up at her father, she waited for him to nod his approval before she shuffled warily forward. Taking her thumb out of her mouth, she snatched the mint off of Ianto’s hand and popped it in her mouth, clicking her baby sharp teeth together.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Gladys?” Ianto asked carefully. When he held out his hand she seemed to make a snap decision and grabbed, now making a purring sound.

“You’re the first people she’s ever seen besides me,” Parry told them, watching Gladys carefully. He seemed shocked, but smiled nonetheless. “She seems taken with you.”

“Can she read?” Ianto asked.

“Don’t know,” Parry answered. “She’s four, so didn’t try to teach her yet. I read to her and she watches Blue Peter on the telly.”

Gladys was examining Ianto’s hand, seemingly fascinated with the new human. “Has she ever bitten you?”

“Only when she was a baby and teething. Got real cranky. I gave her a soup bone to gnaw on and that ended it. If you’re wondering if she’s going to run wild and kill the neighbours, the answer is no. No neighbours for miles around here and after she got out…” Parry looked embarrassed to admit it, but he motioned to Gladys’ neck where she was wearing what looked to be a pink choker, but on closer inspection had built in wiring. “Got one of those wireless fences they use for big dogs. Keeps her in just fine.”

Gladys made an impatient sound and tugged on Ianto’s hand, drawing him back over to the swing. Ianto got up but followed her the short distance under Jack’s watchful gaze. Instead of attacking Ianto like Jack was half expecting, Gladys showed him her ragged teddy bear. The brown eyes considering him were not the eyes of a monster.

Ianto reached out and took the stuffed animal’s paw, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

Gladys hand made a few quick gestures in sign language to Ianto.

“Says her name is Mabel,” Parry translated for her.

“Nice to meet you Mabel,” Ianto greeted the bear. He smiled when Gladys made a happy yip and baring her teeth at him. It was the singularly most frightening smile he had ever seen, but Ianto smiled back at the child. “Thank you for showing your friend to me. Can we be friends, Gladys?”

Gladys tilted her head to the side and contemplated Ianto for a moment. She leaned in for a moment, sniffing him. Making a huffing sound, she wrinkled her small nose and looked back at Jack, pointing first at Ianto, then at Jack and finally her teddy bear.

“Yes,” Ianto chuckled. “I suppose he’s kind of like my teddy bear. His name is Jack. He smells different than your Dad and me?”

Gladys sniffed the air in Jack’s direction and nodded after a moment.

“You’re not to bite him or me. You wouldn’t bite a friend, would you?” Gladys shook her head, but looked uncertainly at Jack again. “He won’t hurt you. I promise. Why don’t you show him Mabel?”

Gladys nodded and let go of Ianto’s hand, sticking her thumb back in her mouth. She crept closer to Jack and gripping the bear around its neck, she held it out for Jack. Jack for his part, patted the toy on the head.

“Nice Mabel,” Jack tried and succeeded in making Gladys make a sound that sort of sounded like the cross between a growl and laugh. “Um, thanks?”

“Listen, Gladys, why don’t you go with your Dad for a few minutes while I talk with Jack, here?” Ianto prompted, motioning towards Parry. He ushered Gladys back to her father, but went back around near the oak tree, staying close enough to keep watch over Gladys and her father.

Jack lowered his voice and shared his careful analysis of the situation. “Sounds like a case of spillage.”

Ianto blinked. “Did you just say spillage?”

“I did.”

“In reference to the Rift?”

“Yes, Ianto. The Rift.”

“Jack, you have spillage with coffee, not a tear in the space and time continuum.”

“It’s a Rift phenomena. Spillage. Look it up when we get back.”

Ianto crossed his arms over his chest. “I still think you’re pulling that one out of your arse.”

Jack gave Ianto a sideways glance. Ianto knew exactly what it did to him when he called him that.

“Something spilled over. In this case, I think I know exactly what happened. It’s the only thing that could account for a consensual mating between a human and a weevil. Think of an excessive psychic energy spilled over into the Rift that compels people exposed to this energy to mate with other people in their near vicinity.”

“Uh huh.” Ianto looked doubtful. “Spillage.”

“It’s from an alien race that are so damn puritanical that their sexual energy builds up and bursts every few years. It’s been a documented, but rare, phenomena for over fifty years.”

“In my visits to the archive, I never ran across anything named… spillage.”

“That’s because I filled it under ‘F’.”

Ianto groaned, not doubting for a moment that Jack had done exactly that. “F?”

“I filed it under ‘F’ for ‘Freaky Alien Lust Inducer’.”

“Of course you did. It certainly would take a hell of lot more than ale to get any sane man to bed a weevil.”

Jack flashed a smile at Ianto. “Oh, I don’t know. Janet has her moments.”

“Jack, this is serious…”

There a brief pout before Jack nodded. “I know.”

“So, this spillage? It seeps across the Rift and poof, anyone exposed starts shagging and lives happily ever after? Kind of sounds like Cupid.”

“Not Cupid. There’s no happily ever after. Just shagging.”

“Then how come the weevil followed Parry home?”

“Weevils mate for live… or, at least as long as their mate is alive. The spillage triggered Parry to mate with an unmated weevil and she followed her instincts. She followed him home and then, poof, Gladys.”

“A human-weevil hybrid.”

“Yes,” Jack sighed, trying to come to grips with the problem with pigtails and teeth that could strip a man’s thigh bone of its flesh. “We can’t leave her here.”

“I won’t let you lock her up,” Ianto insisted. “She’s a child.”

“She’s half alien,” Jack reminded him. “Half dangerous alien.”

Ianto looked over at the small family. Gladys was making impatient sounds and holding up her arms, wanting to be picked up. Parry picked her up and kissed her ridged forehead. “He loves her. Most men, most humans, would have run screaming from a child like that. They would have killed it.”

“I may have a solution, but I’ll have to make a call to Archie at Torchwood Two in Glasgow.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ianto asked hopefully.

“We have an unmanned monitoring station out on North Rona. It’s this island out in the middle of the ocean. It’s a secure location, maybe even a prison, but at least its better than throwing the kid into the basement of the Hub. She’d have a lot of birds to chase…”

Ianto latched onto the idea immediately. “It could work. Torchwood would pay for their transport, support and education.”

“Ianto, there’s no predicting what her capabilities could be.”

“I won’t let her become some sort of experiment, Jack. It would be more merciful to shoot her now.”

“We can trust Archie with this. He always had a soft spot for kids, even if he is a very strange man.” Jack laid his hand on Ianto’s chest. “More importantly, you can trust me with this.” Patting Ianto’s chest before turning, Jack tried to appear friendly. “Parry, how do you feel about boats?”

When Jack went to shave the next morning, having insisted on finishing their holiday at the Bed and Breakfast near Rudry, he found a mint green sticky note on his shaving case with a sentence that came awfully close to romantic for Ianto.

 **You continue to remind me why I tolerate you.**

<><><><><><>

VII.

“I told you,” Jack grunted as Ianto pushed him back down against the front seat again. “Spillage.”

“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” Ianto grated out. He raised up again, his thigh muscles straining as he plunged himself down onto Jack’s cock. “Letting us drive right into this damn thing knowing what it would do. Only reason I’m shagging you is because of this…” Ianto raised himself up again and waved his hand absently at the shimmery silver light that was settled over the SUV. “Thing.”

“Technically, I’d say he’s fucking you, even if you’re riding him,” a helpful and irritating voice supplied from the back seat.

“Shut up,” Ianto snapped and threw back his head as he drove himself onto Jack’s cock again.

“Just pointing out the obvious, eyecandy,” John snorted with amusement, but yelped when his left nipple was bitten. “Ow, what was that for?”

“For being an ass,” Gwen said and licked her lips. John was in the middle of the back seat, with Gwen on one side. “I like Ianto. I don’t like you and alien force or not, I can bite off your…”

“Hey, you need me,” John protested, but hissed when Martha grabbed his balls. “Easy, easy… I’m playing nice. I know how to share.”

“That’s good.” Martha squeezed John’s balls until it was painful. “We technically don’t need you. Technically, I could just release the tension with Gwen.”

“I’m married.” Gwen’s protests sounded weak, but the idea of snogging and more with Martha was far better than John.

“Technically, you just need release,” Martha told her. “Watch Ianto and Jack while I take of Mr. Stroppy Bastard here.”

“I could always join Jack and eyecandy while he plays wife…” John protested. He howled when Martha sank her long nails into a very sensitive spot. She never heard Ianto thank her because she was too busy getting kissed by John and made a mental note to run every test for sexual diseases on herself and Gwen when this was all over.

Grabbing Ianto’s hips and driving up into him, Jack laughed, “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I thought about a team building exercise. But, orgies are almost always fun.”

Ianto pushed away Jack’s hands, taking control again and fisted his right hand into Jack’s shirt. Using the leverage he quickened his pace. He cried out when he came, muffled by Jack kissing him. Jack kept pushing up into Ianto’s now lax body, taking his own pleasure and blessing his stamina.

As Ianto clung to him, Jack whispered into his ear just before he came, “See, spillage…”

When Jack went to use the SUV the next morning, he found a red Post-It note on the dashboard.

 **Please feel free to clean up your own “spillage”, sir.**

END.


End file.
